


Of First Impressions and Pen Names

by Roundabout_Way



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor Clarke, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roundabout_Way/pseuds/Roundabout_Way
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lexa mistakes Clarke for a struggling artist and Clarke lets her think that…until they meet again. </p><p>A slow burn Clexa fic where Clarke needs to relax and Lexa needs to grow up, but both girls need to learn not to judge a book by its cover (or in this case- a first meeting).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

Lexa Woods was having a thoroughly average Saturday. She woke up, checked her email (work first), made herself breakfast (light and healthy), put her athletic clothes on, and ran the three miles to Trikru Gym where she currently stood, in a fighting stance, looking up at a man nearly a foot taller than her own 5’8” with a smirk plastered on her face, plain for the world to see.

“Give up old man- I have you beat” she laughed, beginning to shift her weight for another swing. They were nearing the end of a gruelling two-hour workout and she had lost several layers throughout, now sporting just basketball shorts and a sports bra. While obviously in peak physical shape, her body was shimmering with a sheen of sweat.

“Sure Lex” his voice low and quiet, but not out of breath despite the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and chest. “Or have you forgotten that I’m only a year older than you” Lincoln finished, neatly dodging her uppercut with a smile.

Lexa landed two quick jabs before backing up again to gesture her gloved hand at the two German Shepherds sitting ringside, “even Abe knows you haven’t got a chance.” At this, the dog to the left lifted his head up lazily to look between Lexa and Lincoln, while the dog to the right stayed upright and alert, eyes focused on Lexa with rapt attention. Lincoln took advantage of her momentary distraction to wrap his long arm around her neck, pulling her flush against his sweaty stomach and rubbing his gloved hand in her hair as she flailed. The laughter on his face reflecting the years between them as something akin to siblings, effortless and rhythmic. 

“Never gets old” he chuckled while she pulled away, grimacing. “Get out of here. I have two classes showing up in the next hour and the last thing they need to see is your scrawny ass dancing around out here.”

At this Lexa swept her feet underneath him, cleanly knocking him over with a resounding smack and a raised eyebrow. Walking away she called back, “better get up Lincoln, you have two classes coming in soon and I’d hate to see them getting your ass kicked.”

He mumbled something unintelligible while she tossed her gloves aside and entered the locker room, her faithful shepherd, Gustus at her hip. Abe took her place in the ring next to Lincoln, looking down at his owner with his tongue lolling out. “Yeah, I know bud," Lincoln drawled "you could take me down, too.” 

After a quick shower, Lexa dressed casual but warm, the fall breeze finally encouraging sweaters and light jackets. Tying her chukkas and adjusting the flannel underneath a thick cable knit sweater, she ruffled Gustus affectionately before exiting the locker room and running into Lincoln once more, this time as he walked down the hallway, pulling on a more official polo with TRAINER written along his broad shoulders. 

“Before you leave can you pick up some paperwork to give to Anya? Upstairs on the island in the blue folder.”

“Sure, but I’m not seeing her before the gala tonight, I have a car picking me up to go into work for a few hours.” Lexa stole a glance at her watch while Lincoln rolled his eyes and turned into the small office off the hallway, flicking the light on. Abe followed and hopped into the extra chair behind the desk, looking like it was just as much his office as Lincoln’s.

“You? At the office when you don’t need to be?” Lincoln tossed at her, sarcasm hanging off the question. Lexa leaned into the doorframe and crossed her arms.

“There’s always something to be done, and success stands-“

“On the back of hard work, I know” he finished, looking up from the computer start screen. It’s a phrase he’s heard a dozen times, from Lexa and Anya alike and he’s willing to bet they slept to it repeated on an audiotape. 

“But do you ever relax anymore Lexa? Just take a day for you? When was the last time you wrote?” Seeing her eyes narrow he backtracked, “or did something else, really. Something for you.”

“I have a healthy and robust social life, I’ll have you know” she says, to dubious looks from all three faces in the small office.

“Going out for work doesn't count, and taking home a different woman every week is not healthy, and it’s getting a bit old, don’t you think?”

She pushed off the frame and looked at him, a teasing glint in her eye, “I had no idea you were an advocate for settling down all of a sudden, Cleopatra really has you whipped, eh?”

“Octavia. Her name is Octavia” Lincoln huffed, clearly familiar with the joke. He turned back to the screen in front of him, “and she’s upstairs, so when you pick up the folder please be nice.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, ending the conversation, “I’m always nice. I’ll see you Monday- Gustus likes coming here and Abe needs a good influence in his life.”

Lincoln made a sound in the back of his throat that bordered on protest, until he turned to the dog in question, half on the office chair beside him and half laying across the desk on top of what looked like financial records. Perhaps wisely, Lincoln chose not to say anything.

With one last friendly punch to his shoulder, Lexa and her own companion both exited to the door at the end of the hallway, where stairs lead up to the loft apartment. As they began the ascent, Lexa heard what sounded like two female voices conversing.

 

Clarke Griffin’s morning had gone downhill fast. Waking up to a call from Octavia asking for a pickup downtown meant she lost the opportunity to sleep in on the first Saturday she’s been off in weeks. With an empty fridge, a full laundry basket, and exactly zero cups of coffee, she found herself parking across the street from Trikru Gym to fetch her roommate and best friend of ten plus years. _Ten years too long_ she thought to herself.

Living with her two best friends had been, as of late, effortless- but due to her extra hours at the hospital, Raven’s long days in the lab, and Octavia’s boyfriend Lincoln they rarely crossed paths in the small apartment. Clarke never would have thought she would see her friends less now that she was out of medical school and finished with her residency at George Washington University Hospital but it felt like forever since they had all been in the same place at the same time.

Feeling at least a little sheepish with her choice of clothing- old paint stained jeans and an oversized sweater from her days spent as a summer counsellor at an art camp for kids, Clarke skirted around the gym to slip into the hallway she had been through once before, letting her eyes wander only momentarily to the lean figure sparring with Lincoln in the ring.

She knocked twice at the top of the stairs and was immediately greeted by Octavia, smiling brighter than the sun, as she usually was these days after a prolonged period of time with Lincoln. It was admittedly infectious and Clarke struggled to maintain the grumpy expression she had adopted since her early wake up call.

“Finally!” Octavia pulled Clarke further into the loft while she kept talking, “I was beginning to think you got lost, I tried to call you but-“

“But my phone was off, I know. I left it back in the apartment. The empty apartment I might add. No food, no coffee, no shower for Clarke…” she trailed off with a forlorn look around Octavia into the kitchen. “Any chance Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome has something tall dark and handsome of the coffee variety?” Octavia waggled her eyebrows and went into the cabinet, tossing a look at Clarke’s outfit as she went. Clarke cut her off before she could say anything- “don’t start with me, I’m about this close” she gestured with her thumb and index finger “to going back to bed and sleeping until this dumb thing tonight.”

“I almost forgot Raven was dragging you to that. The one year you dodge your mom’s invitation you end up going anyways. What a break Griff.”

“Don’t remind me. My first Saturday night off in weeks and I’m stuck mingling with DC’s finest rich assholes.”

“Clarke you know-“

“I’m not an asshole, O!” she said, punctuating her sentence with a shove from across the counter. “And you know every department head of the hospital will be there pretending like we’re the best of friends… Oh Ms. Griffin how _is_ the ER treating you these days…I just can’t believe we have two Griffins in one hospital, and at your age!” she imitated, turning her nose up and wildly gesturing as if she had a champagne flute in each hand.

Octavia laughed as she poured water into the french press on the counter. “Well, some of those good old doctors are most definitely not going to mind seeing you out of your scrubs if you know what I mean” she added an exaggerated wink for good measure and watched Clarke make dramatic dry-heaving motions over the sink.

Pouring two mugs of coffee, Octavia wandered over to the small couch and patted the seat next to her. Clarke followed, brushing her jeans off as if to rid the material of the splattered paint, years old.

With a shrug and a deep sip of coffee Clarke mused out loud “for a functioning adult with two degrees you’d think I could manage to dress myself a little better.”

Before she could reply, both girls heard someone start to climb the stairs and turn the knob. Assuming the guest to be Lincoln, Clarke started when a woman entered. Not just any woman, she mentally corrected- a drop dead gorgeous woman; she had forest green eyes, sun kissed skin and long brown hair swept back with casual ease. _the blonde thought, taking a sip from the mug held tightly in her hands._

__

“Am I interrupting?” the woman asked, voice like honey. Clarke tried not to shiver as she put her drink down and finally noticed the dog standing at the woman’s side.

__

“Lexa, I was just leaving. This is my roommate Clarke. She’s here to give me a lift.” Octavia stood and gave Lexa a wave as she moved towards the sink, depositing her own mug, which was odd since it was probably still plenty full. “Clarke, I’m just going to grab my stuff” she winked behind Lexa’s back and stepped into the bedroom just off the living room.

__

Suddenly a little self-conscious about her appearance in front of this Greek goddess, Clarke gave a sheepish smile and shifted on the couch to face Lexa.

__

“Don’t mind the paint, it’s old. The jeans are old and it’s not wet paint it’s dry, but just-“

__

“Old?” Lexa finished for the other woman. She seemed to be appraising the woman in front of her, and with a roguish smirk she took a step forward to lean against the armchair dangerously close to Clarke. “I seem to remember Octavia mentioning her artist friend. Now that we’ve been introduced I won't hesitate to tell you that I love art.”

__

Debating on correcting Lexa, Clarke watched the sun from Lincoln's eastern windows hit the girl’s jawline and decided that, in that moment, she was more artist than doctor.

__

“Yes well, that’s me. Clarke the artist.” Mentally she rolled her eyes at how she sounded. “Although work has been a little slow I suppose, seeing as I haven’t sold a piece in years” Clarke laughed, recalling the early mornings at UCLA where she would fall asleep trying to capture the changing color of the Pacific Ocean.

__

“I just bought a piece for my office. $35,000 and it’s just hideous. I’d be happy to throw it out if it meant I could buy something off you. I’m glad to help you out. Everyone needs a start, you know.” At this Lexa dropped into the chair with practiced elegance and ease, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe we could even grab a drink sometime and I can help you out with your numbers. Art is a hard field to make a living in and I’m sure I’d be able to give you a... leg up.”

__

The innuendo was not lost on Clarke, but neither was Lexa’s air of superiority. “You haven’t even seen my work” but as she said it, the brunette’s eyes were slowly dragging up her body, and she wasn’t surprised when Lexa simply shrugged in response.

__

“Money’s not really an object you know, and I like what I see already.”

__

Clarke was quickly losing interest in the innocent teasing. Here was the most beautiful girl she’d ever met and she was exactly the kind of rich asshole Clarke was trying to avoid. She mentally shuddered at the thought of ending up in the same social circle as the one she grew up in, filled with people who flaunted their money around and had no qualms about talking down to anyone who had a career for the love of it, instead of the money. 

__

“How kind of you. I’m sure you’d take me somewhere nicer than I could ever…afford” Clarke chucked at her little joke as she stood and walked around Lexa to deposit her mug on the counter, before turning to face the other girl once more.

__

Lexa didn’t catch the sarcasm and instead had the nerve to stand and pull out a business card from her wallet.

__

“This is my personal line, I’d love to hear from you sometime and we can work out those drinks.”

__

Before Clarke could rip the card in half just for the satisfaction of rejecting the spoiled brat in front of her, Octavia danced back into the room, bag in hand, smile in place.

__

“Ready to go, Clarkey?”

__

“Sure, O. I’m ready” Clarke turned to Lexa fully “Nice meeting you, what was your name again?”

__

Lexa deflated momentarily before turning the charm back on and stepped forward to take Clarke’s hand. Raising it to her lips, she kissed the knuckles once and then looked up salaciously.

__

“Lexa Woods. May we meet again, Clarke.”

__

With a polite smile, Clarke took her hand back and pulled Octavia, who was looking curiously at the two women, from the apartment.

__

 

__

By the time the door closed, Lexa was feeling pretty good about herself. Looking down at Gustus she beamed and walked to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful blonde artist.

__

“Gustus my friend” she started “have you ever, in your dog gone life, seen a more beautiful woman?” while Gustus looked a little less than unimpressed Lexa spared a second glance out the window. Wondering momentarily about the car parked outside, a matte black G-Wagon not unlike Anya’s, only modified and in pristine condition, she turned towards the counter to retrieve the folder of documents before opening the door and following Gustus down the stairs, pulling out her cell as she went.

__

“Anya?” Lexa spoke into the phone, “I just met the most beautiful girl…”

__

 

__

-To be Continued-

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since I've written and I've let this sit in my mind for long enough. Clarke and Lexa have explosive chemistry but I think that could make them clash initially, if only for a little while.


	2. Second Meeting

By 10:30pm Clarke’s face was starting to hurt from all the forced pleasantries of the night, yet the Aerospace Spotlight Awards Gala was still going strong. Raven had disappeared with some work colleagues and a promise to be right back with drinks for the two of them, but here Clarke stood, her smile more like a grimace, listening to Marcus Kane recount what he called ‘the great yoga incident of 2017’.

“…and she kept saying ‘Marcus, you wont regret it, you just wont’ and I kept telling her that I sweat just fine on my runs, thank you, and did you know I run every day? I used to be-“

“on the same training routine as the astronauts, yes I think you mentioned” Clarke cut him off with a kind but weary reminder.

“Right, where was I- oh, yes. So she had convinced herself that I’m just made for sweating in this hot room where you stretch to this music- and have you done hot yoga Clarke? Because it’s not just warm…”

At this point Clarke gave up focus and let her mind wander away from her current predicament with her late father’s eclectic friend. She ruefully admitted to herself that it was her own fault in coming to an event where half the people knew her from her last name, and the other half knew her from the hospital. She and Raven had spent most of the evening guessing which of the award recipients would get too drunk, and which of Raven’s interns would call her from the lab first since, she confided, she had left them with an impossible task and a 5am deadline.

With a sly glance at her watch Clarke guessed that within the half hour she would be able to slip out with a quick goodbye to Raven and maybe even make it back to the apartment before 12. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she had turned into a 28-year-old who desperately wanted to be in bed on a Saturday night.

“…and the next thing I knew, I was waking up to someone calling 911 and the cat was hanging off the ceiling fan and- Clarke, are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yes, of course. I’m just wondering where Raven went…I think I left her at the bar and-” before she could finish Marcus had exuberantly taken her arm to lead her in the direction of the central bar where Clarke knew Raven was not. 

“Of course, of course! I’m in need of a drink myself” he said with a chuckle and flushed face.

Once they approached, Clarke realized that in her efforts to avoid a majority of the crowd throughout the evening, she had also managed to avoid the tall brunette that she now saw leaning against the bar. And really, what were the odds, she thought to herself, that this woman would be at a NASA sponsored awards gala when Clarke knew for a fact she was in publishing. Octavia had been a wealth of information on Lexa Woods, and she was everything Clarke had guessed.

She also realized (and then cursed herself for doing so), that seeing Lexa Woods in a sports bra, and seeing Lexa Woods in a cable knit sweater, was nothing, compared to seeing Lexa Woods in a tailored tuxedo, even as she stood half turned, speaking to an older man.

“…and few people know George Orwell did the same thing, his actual name being- “

“Eric Arthur Blair” Clarke answered before Lexa even had the chance to finish and stood a little taller when the brunette turned, then looked like she was seeing a ghost. 

There was a pause where Clarke looked at Lexa with a challenge, Marcus looked behind the bar, Lexa looked back at Clarke, and the older man looked between the two of them.

The pause ended when Lexa finally breathed out a light “yes, in fact it was” still looking at Clarke curiously. By this point, Marcus had picked up on the silent tension next to him and seemed to recognize Lexa with a happy greeting. Turning, he gestured at the blonde to his left whom Lexa had never looked away from.

“Alexandria this is Dr. Clarke Griffin, the youngest surgeon in Washington and daughter of Abby Griffin who you’re well acquainted with.” Lexa extended her arm, and took Clark’s hand softly for a moment before the other girl pulled away.

“Alexandria. How…nice to meet you” though by the tone of her voice, it was anything but. Lexa was thinking that it was more than nice, however, and had recovered from the immediate shock and confusion quite well. Now she seemed to be looking at Clarke with amused scrutiny.

“Ms. Griffin I hadn’t realized your last name. Or your relation to Dr. Griffin. Or her daughter.” Even with her happiness at seeing the blonde again, she still narrowed her eyes slightly. Marcus meanwhile, seemed to be looking for an opportune moment to slip away because at this first sign of a pleasant exchange between the two, he clapped his hands together.

“Oh you’ve met before, splendid! Clarke, Alexandria, excuse me a moment I see Senator Jaha over there and I’ve just got to tell him about that class…” and with that, he slipped into the crowd.

This left the two women facing each other, and while Clarke was trying desperately not to look Lexa up and down, the latter was letting her eyes run over every inch of Clarke in her dress, which had blue shimmering accents that did incredible things to the blonde’s eyes.

“Can I have a coke, please?” and mentally Clarke hated herself for driving because she wanted nothing more than to drown out the sound of the other woman’s voice with a few choice drinks, or words, she supposed. She tried not to blush at the way Lexa’s eyes had appraised her, or the way her face softened and lit up when they made eye contact.

“So Clarke the artist is actually Clarke the doctor. Clarke the surgeon. Daughter of Abigail Griffin, which means daughter of the late Jake Griffin which means… princess of NASA? Of DC maybe?” Clarke looked at her for a second, betraying her surprise, but quickly looked away as she took a drink.

“I never said I wasn’t a doctor” she reasoned with a shrug.

“You said you were an artist”

“Everyone is an artist” and Clarke could hardly recognize a paintbrush these days, hadn’t picked up her charcoals in years, hadn’t been able to stomach the white of a canvas since she started med school but here she was, pretending on some level that she still had a right to call herself an artist. As if she ever did. She felt her stomach churn at the thought and loathed Lexa for it.

“Oh? And by what measure?”

Clarke snapped back as she started to look around for Raven, “what are you even doing here. You own a publishing company, shouldn’t you be at some coffee shop with mason jars and a red pen?”

That earned the first real laugh from Lexa and Clarke’s traitorous body flushed at the sound.

“Is that what publishers do?”

“I don’t know, you seem the type” Clarke mumbled under her breath.

Though not low enough, evidently, as Lexa smiled wide, her teeth showing, “and would I be your type, Clarke?”

“No.” But if it was a firm answer out loud, some part of her body (and she knew exactly what part) gave a very different reply.

If Lexa was deterred she didn’t show it. “I didn’t hear from you this afternoon, were you planning on calling tomorrow? I don’t usually pursue con artists, but I’d make an exception for you” and Clarke would have laughed at the pun if she wasn’t trying so hard not to be charmed by this woman.

“You didn’t hear from me because I wasn’t going to call.” She took out a few bills and tossed them on the bar, just to have them immediately picked up by the brunette next to her. 

“You don’t have to worry about your profession, Clarke. I like you just as much as I did when I thought you were an artist.” Lexa waved the bartender over while she casually leaned in, pointed to Clarke’s drink as she spoke and gestured to have it put on her tab.

Though she thought this was the right thing to say, Lexa could see how it immediately hardened the other girl’s face into a cool mask, “thank goodness, I was worried my intelligence and success might have scared you off.”

Realizing her mistake, Lexa backtracked, “I just meant-”

“I know what you meant, Lexa Woods” Clarke began, voice like ice “you meant that you still think you can snap your fingers and I’ll come drooling after you for your money or your car or whatever it is you use to entice your flavor of the week.” She snatched the bills out of Lexa’s hand and roughly shoved them into the tip jar. “But I wasn’t interested in being your charity case and I’m certainly not interested in being your next conquest. Good night.”

With that, she turned briskly and marched directly across the hall towards the coat check. Lexa’s mouth hung open and watched the other woman leave, thinking for the second time that day that the blue-eyed girl couldn’t possibly be real. After a moment she felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to face a long angular face, which at the moment looked almost as confused as Lexa.

“Anya, you have yet again stepped away for what might have been the most pivotal moment in my existence thus far”

“Honestly Lexa, you missed your calling as an actress, what are you blithering on about over here, and who was the blonde you scared off” Anya placed her wine glass back on the bar and followed her frazzled cousin as she began to mill through remaining guests, towards the exit.

Lexa distractedly called back “possibly my other half though currently more likely to be the next woman to pour a drink on me.”

“What are you talking about” and Anya was more than amused seeing her cousin this out of her element, “who was the blonde and WHY is Marcus Kane doing yoga on stage right now.” 

“Clarke Griffin the surgeon... and artist, I think. I’m not sure.” They had reached the entryway and Anya gathered that Lexa planned on waiting here to accost the same blonde whenever she decided to leave.

“Looks like she’s eating out of your hand already, boss.” And even as she said it she wondered what this Clarke Griffin had done to bring out a side of Lexa that Anya hadn’t seen in years. Not since, well not since the accident, which hadn’t exactly turned Lexa away from dating- but had shut down any part of her capable of feeling something more than carnal desire it seemed. Yet here her cousin stood, shifting her weight almost nervously.

Seeing Lexa grow up alone and go through more than her share of tragedy and heartbreak, Anya felt protective of the grown adult, even now, but she also had immense respect for the girl’s tenacity and resilience. She had watched as Lexa spent the past five years creating a company for a hobby the other woman couldn’t even stomach anymore, never opening up to anyone save for Anya or Lincoln, and wasting her time with women that graced her life for 24 hours at most. She honestly couldn’t remember when she had seen this much effort from Lexa, and as Anya squeezed her shoulder and walked back towards the thinning crowd, she wondered what would come of it.

 

“Ray, you don’t know her. Trust me, she’s not my type.”

Raven scoffed, “I know what she looks like in that suit though and I bet it’s making you-“

“-angry” Clarke continued, “angry that I ran into her here, you’re right.”

“Yeah I bet that’s exactly what she makes you feel, angry that she’s not sitting on your-“

“Mom!” Clarke interrupted her this time with wide eyes and a pointed look.

“My favorite daughter and my favorite rocket scientist, Clarke the night is practically over and I haven’t seen you once, where have you been hiding?” And although Clarke and her mother were finally in a good place, finally something more than strangers with the same last name- a part of Clarke wondered if the question was partially rooted in hurt that stemmed from the years of estrangement post her husband’s death.

Raven sidestepped closer to Abby and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper and a hand on the older woman’s lower _lower_ back, “she’s been at the bar with Lexa Woods.”

“And yet I’m dreadfully sober” commented Clarke, looking up and wishing the line for coat check would move.

As though it was a daily occurrence, Abby reached to pull Raven’s arm up a few inches while she tilted her head at her daughter, “how do you know Lexa?”

“Lexa! Since when are you on a first name basis with Lexa Woods” and at this Clarke sounded haughty.

Abby furrowed her brows slightly, “long enough to know that she doesn’t drink and she’s just as single as you are. If I knew you were ready to date again I might have set you up with her myself, Clarke. You work too much.”

At this Raven nodded in affirmation as though they were a united front, “couldn’t have said it better myself, Abigail.”

“Raven, don’t hit on my mom. Mom, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Honey-“

“Yes?” Raven turned to the elder Griffin and answered without a beat.

Abby continued, “you’re working yourself sick and I promise it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there again. I can also promise there is more to Lexa Woods than that dapper suit” and Raven took this as her cue to clothesline the next waiter, who looked afraid for his life as she attempted to rid him of his suit jacket.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. And now I’ve lost Raven.” Indeed, Raven had slipped into the crowd, possibly looking for another unsuspecting waiter with a loose tie.

Abby smiled as they moved forward, and her hand cupped Clarke’s face affectionately before she started to walk away.

“Come by my office this week please!”

Finally reaching the front of the line, Clarke smiled and took her coat and clutch. Sending a quick text to Raven to let her know she was leaving and she’d see her back in the apartment, she began walking towards the door.

A voice from the couches in the entry startled her as she approached the door, “Clarke! There you are, I’ve been waiting for you.”

If Clarke was honest with herself, she thought Lexa would have given up by now. In a moment of dishonesty with herself, she ignored the way her heart sped up at Lexa’s bare forearms where she had rolled up her sleeves.

“Why?”

“Your mom just came over and said you offered to drive me home since my, er ride left.” Lexa rubbed the back of her neck and for the first time Clarke saw some nerves. At the same time she was cursing her mother, the traitor. She allowed herself one moment of weakness where her eyes glanced down and up again to appreciate the tight fitting slacks, black oxford shoes, and crisp white shirt tucked in with a casual ease now that her arms were exposed. She thought she saw a dark shadow on the woman’s shoulder and briefly wondered about the possibility of a tattoo before she snapped out of her reverie.

She could feel the warmth of her blush on the back of her neck when she met Lexa’s eyes and held her gaze for a moment before turning on her heel towards the door which the other woman jogged to open. 

“Oh she did, did she?” Clarke continued walking.

Now standing by valet parking, Lexa took Clarke’s coat out of her hands to hold open. “Look, Clarke. I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let’s start over shall we?” She held her hand out while the other girl just looked at her as a car pulled to a stop in front of them.

Clarke finally gave a small sigh and called over her shoulder to the still extended hand, “just get in the car, Lexa Woods.”

She dropped her arm and opened the door, but faked ignorance and looked at the driver, keeping up the charade for a moment longer, “why, how on earth do you know my name already?” and gave a signature smile as she climbed inside the Mercedes.

Clarke just rolled her eyes, “address, please” she asked, and gestured towards the touch screen navigator.

Once they had pulled out of the parking lot, with stolen glances between the two of them, Lexa listened closer to the light music coming from the speakers.“You like Dotan?”

Before she answered Clarke looked at the center console, which still showed her navigation screen and not music selection, then found herself pleasantly surprised that Lexa knew the artist without any prompt.

“Well, yes actually.”

“And I bet you thought we had nothing in common.” Even Lexa found herself a little surprised for scrambling to find something to talk about with the woman next to her. Earlier that day when she had met Clarke she immediately knew she would pursue the beautiful blonde, but in the way that she pursued all women- effortlessly. But here she sat, palms slightly sweaty and hoping to impress the woman by any means necessary- not hoping to take her home (or maybe hoping just a little bit), but really hoping to understand her a little better, as she found herself confused and off balance when it came to the younger Griffin.

Clarke seemed to be off balance herself and sat in thought for a few moments before remembering something from earlier. “How do you know my mother?”

Lexa looked away from Clarke for what seemed like the first time since leaving the gala. “Your mother is a doctor. I imagine she has many patients.”

“My mom is chief of neurosurgery, she’s not a personal physician” Clarke pushed, looking for something more from her now tense passenger who sat in silence.

The GPS showed Lexa’s condo around the corner, and Clarke wondered how a car ride, even a short one, with Lexa Woods had gone by so fast. She pulled up to the entrance and put the car in park just as a light rain began to fall.

“Did you ask her?” Lexa asked.

“She can’t tell me anything even if you are her patient. You know what HIPAA is, don’t you?”

Finally smirking again, as she seemed to do without thought, Lexa answered, “I do, I just like the idea of you asking about me.” And with that, she slid out of the car, holding her jacket, rain falling on her white shirt. Before closing the door on the now protesting driver, she leaned forward. 

“Pretend to hate me all you want, Clarke Griffin. But you don’t really know anything about me…yet.”

 

Hours later, as Clarke tossed back and forth in her bed, barely asleep, she found herself not dreaming about Lexa’s tailored tuxedo, or her perfectly green eyes, or her silky smooth laugh, but instead about the single raindrop that ran down her face as she said goodnight.

-To Be Continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, Clarke and Lexa can only fight fated meetings for so long. The artist mentioned is Dotan who sings Home II, which played at the end of 2X01 and is one of my favorite songs from the series. Also Raven and Abby are not actually together in this, but we all know even cannon Raven wants it on some level. Let me know what you think and thanks for the kudos thus far~


	3. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson

Leaning over the reception counter, Harper and Fox flipped through chart after chart, making small notes here and there, maintaining their running commentary and conversation about the doctors they worked with. Pausing when they saw a white coat turn the corner in front of them, they continued when it wasn’t the dark skinned topic of their conversation.

“I heard he’s single and he signed up for the auction after Sinclair asked him who he would bid on. Something about it being not just women dates.”

“I heard he’s secretly gay and that’s why he transferred from New York, because he was totally sleeping with a resident.” This was met with a dubious look from Harper, and a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure “he” was nowhere in sight.

“But did you see him with that tall guy the other day? They were totally fighting over a girl,” she whispered. Hearing footsteps they quickly looked back at the charts in front of them.

“I still heard he was single” Fox muttered under her breath before they heard someone address them. Turning, they realized this particular white coat was much closer to them than they had realized.

“Ladies, have either of you seen Doctor Jaha this morning?” and Clarke enjoyed seeing their eyes widened a fraction.

“Uh, yeah he was in the room with Mrs. Haken just a few moments ago” and Harper at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed at being caught gossiping with her fellow nurse.

“Wonderful, I’ll leave you here to continue your…discussion” and Clarke walked around the desk with a small chuckle. She had told Wells countless times that he had caught the eye of many nurses in the hospital but he was reluctant to believe her. After only a few weeks at GW she knew he had become a popular topic of gossip and she was amused more than anything.

It had been years since her and Wells had lived in DC at the same time, and although he had grown into the definition of handsome, charming, and successful, she thought she might like him more if he actually was gay. His childhood crush had never quite gone away and it strained their friendship at times. She paused around the corner to listen to Fox and Harper once more.

“Do you think she’s with him?” and she couldn’t tell which of them had suggested it but she rolled her eyes regardless.

“Doctor Griffin? No way.” Clarke smiled- Fox, she thought, at least had something right. “She’s like a robot or something. You know she finished med school in like two years or something? She probably sleeps in the on call rooms.”

“Maybe Jaha is into that” and then a pause, “I wouldn’t mind spending some time in an empty on call room with him.” To that, they both giggled.

“Or her” and Clarke took this as her final cue to walk away before she heard anything else.

 

Seeing the white coat she was looking for turn the corner up ahead she jogged forward.

“Wells! Hold on” and he turned immediately, recognizing her voice.

His face lit up with the same smile she had seen for the past twenty years of their friendship, “Doctor Griffin,” he greeted, still smiling.

“Don’t call me that” she playfully shoved his shoulder, “I’ll think we’re teenagers again and you’re looking for my mother.” They continued walking forward together, Clarke leading them towards the elevator.

“I thought you would be used to it by now” and then his smile lost some authenticity as he recalled his run in with the older Blake yesterday, “should I call you princess instead?”

She scowled and crossed her arms as they waited for the doors to open. “Don’t be a jerk, Jaha. And stop antagonizing Bellamy, he’s just a friend.” Mentally she added ‘so are you’ and stepped into the lift with him at her side.

“He doesn’t seem to think so” and Wells did actually sound like the teenage version of himself, then. Like he was sixteen and still sore at Clarke, who kept him as just a friend.

The doors opened again and they both stepped out, “well I happen to think so and I’m pretty sure that settles it,” she reasoned.

“Where are we going?” Wells finally asked as they turned another corner.

“You owe me coffee and I’m collecting. Fox and Harper are 100% thirsty for you,” she took on a joking tone and made a face, “I don’t know why, but they are.”

He sighed, a little exasperated but maybe a little pleased with himself at the same time. “And how would you know that?”

She looked up with a cunning smile, “I’ve spent the past half hour eavesdropping on them.”

“Doctor Griffin!” he chastised.

“Is it true you’re gay and you slept with a resident back in New York?” and at that he stopped laughing. He only spluttered in response.

They had reached the cafe cart just in time for her to make her demand, “coffee, Wells, or I’ll tell them about that one time in high school with Jasper and the taxidermy-”

He wisely cut her off as the attendant started to look curiously at the pair. “Whatever she wants and a green tea.”

She smiled, “a large latte, no foam, and with the sweet taste of victory.”

Wells rolled his eyes and handed the confused looking teenager a ten-dollar bill. “And what might that taste like?”

“Probably like a pump of vanilla syrup” she patted Dr. Jaha on the back and walked over to the other side of the cart where he followed a moment later with his tea. 

“What are you doing this weekend? My dad asked me over for dinner and I was thinking that maybe you and your mom could join.”

And this is why she couldn’t call Wells her best friend anymore, because even though his heart was in the right place, he was always trying to fix things. Be it relationships or people. He was just such a…well, such a doctor, she decided.

“I can’t” and at least she had a real excuse, “I’m working a double through Saturday and then the auction is Sunday night.” What had the world come to, she pondered, when she was now thankful for a charity auction where she was letting people bid on a date with her.

“Right, right, I forgot. So the auction, you know who’s going to bid on you?” and did he look hopeful? She thought he looked a little hopeful. Damn, he looked hopeful. She mentally sighed.

“If I keep avoiding my mother this well I’m half worried she might, just to get an evening in,” as she said it she realized maybe she should ask Raven to clear her calendar in order to come, in order to get a safety bidder in the mix.

“I thought you two were alright” and he looked more like a concerned psychologist at that moment, sipping his green tea thoughtfully. At one point in time she would have told Wells everything- no matter what, and she would have trusted him to be her best friend through it all. But that time had long passed, and they were just starting their friendship again, even if he was trying to simply pick up where they left off. 

“We’re fine.” Her tone indicated the conversation was over at that.

“Maybe you should talk to her about-”

“Thank you” Clarke said, with a little misplaced hostility, when the boy behind the counter handed over her latte.

“I just mean you might feel better if you-” Clarke cut him off again with a glare but then he continued with an arm on her shoulder. “I think that both of you would benefit from some time talking for more than fifteen minutes. She lost him too, Clarke.”

That was more than she could stand to hear from him and she roughly pulled her arm away from his hand.

“You know what, I just remembered that I have to go to peds for something.” That might have been a low-blow, seeing as she was probably one of the only people in the hospital who knew why that was the one place he wouldn’t follow her. “Thanks for the coffee, Jaha.”

With that, she turned and walked towards another elevator, stepping in as the doors began to close. Behind her Wells threw out the rest of his tea with a sigh while the doors closed.

Clarke sipped her coffee in the empty elevator while she thought about her longest friend. Maybe setting him up with a nurse wouldn’t be a bad idea, and it might keep him busy for the time being. She should have thought about this last week, before the auction where he could potentially bid on a date with her. Not only would the nurses have a field day with rumors, she would have to tell him, yet again, that they were just friends.

The elevator stopped and she stepped into the brightly painted hallway. Pediatrics was decorated in a way that made Clarke’s heart clench. The long-term wing was meant to make kids feel safe and at home, but she knew that no child here could ever fully escape the feeling of living in a hospital. Even after the car accident that had made her reconsider trauma and look into other areas of practice, she knew peds would always be too hard for her.  She walked around the corner towards the south facing elevator but stopped when she saw a tall figure walking down the hall with a service-vested German Shepherd walking dutifully at her side.

It had been a week since the gala where Lexa might have adjusted Clarke’s first impression of her, at least slightly. But Clarke hadn’t heard from the woman since-not that she was disappointed. Maybe slightly, but she shook her head to rid herself of whatever thoughts she was having about one Lexa Woods.

One Lexa Woods who was in her hospital. In peds. Did her dog always have that service vest? Clarke couldn’t remember seeing it in Lincoln’s apartment. Curious now, she ignored the elevator as it arrived and instead walked down the hallway and peered around the corner Lexa had turned.

She was talking to an older nurse that Clarke vaguely recognized. Listening closely, she could hear the conversation. Second time today, she thought to herself.

“Alexandria, it’s good to see you again”

“Miriam,” the younger woman had a smile in her voice. That must be the nurse’s name; Clarke filed that information away for later and kept listening, “I didn’t see you last week…”

A family passed by and she lost the conversation for a moment as she pretended to be checking her pager. When she could hear the pair again, it was Miriam talking, though Clarke was mentally hung up on what Lexa had said about last week. _She was here last week?_

“And Gustus, I’m happy to see you also.”

Was that the dog? She knew Lincoln’s shepherd was named Abe, ironically, and now she thought this one must be Gustus. The conversation had continued through her silent thinking and she strained to catch a few words now that it sounded like their backs were turned.

“Charlotte will be so happy to see you, it was grandparent’s day yesterday and she managed as best she could, but…”

They must have started walking again, as their conversation faded. Clarke risked another glance around the corner and saw them standing outside the children’s library room. 

Debating her sanity, she grabbed a blank clipboard off the reception desk to her right and walked quietly down the hall, turning towards an empty room while she looked down at the board and continued to listen.

“Go on in, honey, they’ll be waiting” and then the door opened and Clarke almost jumped at the loud chorus of “Lexa” that she heard from within the room. Even when the door shut, she could hear different voices calling out to the other woman with obvious glee. As she walked behind Miriam who was standing at the window she turned into the room at the other end of the hallway that had a window which looked into the library, usually used for teaching purposes or for families. She kept the lights off in the hopes that it prevented the children, and Lexa, from seeing her.

Lexa was in her element, obviously. She greeted everyone by name, and had released Gustus to the mass of children where he was obviously adored. One girl, who sat with an IV at her side was patting his head while Lexa asked about her week. The smaller children were hanging onto her arms while the older children began pushing chairs into a circle.

One boy picked up an adult sized chair and pushed it with great effort behind Lexa, who beamed and offered him praise. His smile was easily the brightest in the room, while behind the glass window, Clarke had just finished picking her jaw off the ground.

“Who’s ready for story time?” Lexa asked. Everyone raised their hand and quickly and found a seat around her, some of the youngest kids sat at her feet and leaned against her.

“Who has the book?” but even as she said it, one of the boys had already handed it to her, with a bookmark sticking out of the top. “You didn’t read ahead, did you?” Which Clarke thought was further confirmation that this was a routine, a ritual in which Lexa Woods came to her hospital and read books to children. She sat down in a chair, feeling almost light headed.

“Chapter seven, a mad tea party. There was a table set out under a tree…” Lexa had started reading, and her voice sounded like the clearest melody Clarke had ever heard.

“Hello, doctor. Can I help you?”

Clarke shot out of her chair as Miriam looked down at her, head tilted.

“Oh, uhm, no. I was just- looking- for something” she finished lamely.

Miriam pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “In a room with the lights off?”

Clarke really had no idea what to say then, as she stood awkwardly with an empty clipboard and a guilty expression. Miriam took some pity on the young woman and turned facing the window, letting Clarke’s heart-rate get back to something normal. There was a long pause that allowed Clarke time to sit down and follow Miriam’s gaze back to Lexa.

“She comes every week,” the nurse clearly guessing why Clarke was sitting in front of the window with the lights off. “She reads to the children and visits those who are here alone too often.”

“They know her.” Because while Clarke had a talent for remembering names, Lexa knew every, single, name. Of every child in that room, and they knew her with a familiarity of family.

“They love her” Miriam corrected. She patted the blonde’s shoulder and looked at her with shrewd understanding before she left with a few parting words. “No need to leave so soon, doctor, it is a good story.”

 

Before she knew it, Clarke was listening to the final words of the chapter, and Lexa was saying her goodbyes. She walked around the room to each child and promised that she would be back. Ending with the girl named Charlotte, as Clarke learned, who had leaned on Gustus and lightly stroked his fur the entire chapter. He looked almost as relaxed as she did, and Lexa had a smile reserved just for them. 

After her final goodbye, Gustus followed Lexa through the door and they turned down the hallway while Clarke battled internally about what she was about to do.

Giving the woman a moment head start, she left her sanctuary and walked swiftly down the hallway as Lexa approached the double doors that led to a waiting room. It might have been her nerves, or her adrenaline, or that damned part of her that was still thinking about Lexa’s smile in the library, but before she realized it Clarke had called out, “Lexa!”

Both her and the dog turned, and both her and the dog looked surprised to see a blushing Clarke Griffin standing in front of them, looking a little sheepish.

“Doctor Griffin” Lexa started hesitantly, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” She held the door open and allowed the blonde to pass.

“I do moonlight as a doctor on occasion” Clarke replied, with an edge of flirtation in her voice that made Lexa check to make sure she was talking to the right Clarke Griffin. “I am surprised to see you here though.”

Lexa looked down at Gustus and shrugged, “the kids like to see Gustus. Animals are good for healing” then looked up with a private small as they walked.

Clarke didn’t quite know what to say to that, because she knew it wasn’t Gustus who had made every face in that room light up like it was Christmas morning. She chose to keep that knowledge to herself for now.

When they reached the end of the hallway Lexa gestured down the two hallways, both leading deeper into the maze of a building, “so where do you work within the hospital, Doctor?”

“You don’t have to call me doctor” and not wanting their conversation to end just yet she turned left which took them on the longer route back to the ER. “To be honest, I’m still not used to the title” she admitted, looking up at Lexa.

Lexa looked surprised at that, “Really? I bet you wanted to be a doctor your whole life.” 

Clarke put her hands in her white coat pockets, “actually Ms. Woods,” she began, “I wanted to be an artist.”

“So what happened?” Lexa asked, sounding genuinely curious and peering at Clarke like she wanted to know every detail of the blonde’s life thus far.

“Life” Clarke sighed, “med school was across the country and I desperately wanted to be anywhere but DC after- well, I just wanted to be away. And I know med school isn’t supposed to be enjoyable but UCLA was everything I needed and I think-“ at this she stopped because Lexa was no longer next to her but instead was four feet behind her, looking wary.

“You went to UCLA?”

Clarke turned fully to look at her, “yes” and then after a pause, "what?"

“What class?” Lexa walked forward so they were standing in the middle of the hallway.

“Well I was only there for two and a half years, I graduated in 2012-“ but before she could say anything more, Lexa had started laughing.

“Clarke, you just- you can’t be serious” and she laughed even as she got the words out.

“Why? What are you laughing about?”

“I went to UCLA. For my undergrad. Class of 2013.”

“Oh.” Clarke didn’t know what to say then, “as in UCLA, University of-“

“Clarke,” Lexa began, walking again.

The doctor began to follow, still a little dazed at this new piece of information. It was a big school, she reasoned. There were a thousands of people and she had worked her ass off, which meant she spent most of her time in the library, and her apartment, and around campus- she thought. Would Lexa Woods ever stop intersecting her life now that she had begun? “This is me” she finally said, as they stood in front of the ER desk.

Lexa looked around, “so you’re in trauma then.” There was admiration in her tone.

“Don’t tell me, so are you?” which earned another loud laugh from the other woman, and which made Clarke blush all over again.

“No, I could never be a doctor,” Lexa honestly admitted, while she watched the doctor in front of her hop onto the counter, looking far to young to hold so much responsibility in her hands.

It sounded almost like a confession when Clarke spoke again, “I thought the same thing about myself once, actually.”

Lexa took a step forward, her body almost touching Clarke’s as she looked down into blue eyes. “When you were an artist?”

Clarke half smiled, “something like that.”

“I don’t think I know very much about you, Clarke Griffin” Lexa’s voice had gotten smooth and the blue eyes in front of her darted to the full lips as they spoke, "but I am oh so interested in learning more."

With a low raspy whisper Clarke responded, “You're right, you really don't know much about me.”

There was a moment where both women leaned in, maintaining eye contact, before a passing nurse walked by, talking loudly on the phone which caused both of them to swiftly move apart.

“Will you-“  
“Are you”-

They both began, then stopped and Clarke cleared her throat, “sorry, go ahead.”

Before she lost her courage Lexa put her arm on the counter and leaned forward, “will you be at the auction this Sunday?”

Clarke wanted to be surprised that she knew about a charity auction for the hospital, but then thought back to Lexa’s apparent hospital involvement. “Yes. Actually I’m signed up with a few other nurses and doctors to um,” and in that moment she didn’t know why she had started the sentence because it would seem like a hint, but she continued, “to auction off a date. With myself.”

“I was hoping to ask you-“ then for the second time that afternoon they were interrupted, this time with a loud beep from Clarke’s pager. She quickly hopped off the counter, looking at the small black device and taking a step around the desk.

As she spoke she did look regretful at her swift departure, “I’m sorry, I have to go, I need to take this.”

“I understand, Doctor” she finished with a wide smile so Clarke would see that she truly did understand.

“Lexa” she started, with a deep breath, “It was- I’m- I’ll see you Sunday?”

It sounded hopeful, and Lexa smiled like she had just won the lottery as she nodded. She watched as Clarke jogged down the hall, out of sight, before stealing a piece of paper off the desk and writing a few quick words. 

 

Later, when Clarke pulled a sweatshirt over her scrubs, Harper leaned against the locker next to her and pulled out a piece of paper.

“A woman left this for you earlier. A FINE looking woman, with a dog.” Harper looked curious, although Clarke guessed she had read the note and probably shared it with half the hospital by now.

Clarke took it and put it on the bench in front of her, “thanks Harper.”

The nurse looked from Clarke to the folded piece of paper pointedly before she huffed and walked to the other side of the locker room.  
Clarke threw her backpack over her shoulder and picked up the note, then walked out of the locker room. Her watch read just past 1am and that at least meant no traffic. She walked through the door, into the cold night, and gave in about ten seconds into the parking lot. She opened the paper to find just one sentence.

“Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle” –Charles Lutwidge Dodgson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first pen-name, but not a first kiss. Clarke and Lexa have a long ways to go but at least they're past bad impressions. Thanks for waiting, guys. Let me know what you think-


	4. Going Once, Going Twice…

Gustus sat patiently while Lexa put the finishing touches on her outfit for the evening, as he had done countless times in the past three years with her. Adjusting her cufflinks, she picked up two bowties then knelt in front of the bright-eyed dog.

“Black or white, what do you think Gus?” He looked rather unimpressed with both so she tossed them aside with and walked back into the closet, he leaned forward to keep watching. “You may be onto something there,” she called out, “blue it is.” He approached when she walked back into the room and sniffed at the black slacks. 

A buzz from the dresser made Lexa pause in between bowtie loops, and she walked over to see a message from Octavia. 

_Perfect :* She’ll love them!_

Lexa smiled and thought about the dozen sunflowers sitting by the front door. Having an in with Clarke’s best friend was already proving to be useful, as she easily avoided the trial and error of seeing what flowers were the blonde’s favorite. She walked towards the door and checked her watch.

“Gustus, you ready?”

The shepherd was silent for a moment before he let out a resounding bark. Lexa froze and jerked around desperation in her eyes. “Gustus, please, tell me that was because you need to go out.”

He took two steps forward and barked again, twice this time and louder. Lexa clenched her hand so hard she felt her nails dig into the skin of her palm. Gustus was whining now and she let out a deep sigh as she held out her hand, “please…please Gus,” but he barked a final time and then crouched down while maintaining eye contact.

Resigning herself to a ruined evening, Lexa walked to the bed against the far wall and sat in the middle before laying down completely. Gustus followed her up onto the bed, and while she pulled up a new message to Anya he put his head on her stomach. One hand rested on the thick fur of his broad shoulders while the other pressed send. She had no doubt her cousin would be over in the next ten minutes. Gustus let out a soft wine and nuzzled closer into her side.

She scrolled through her contacts and pressed dial when she found who she was looking for. The phone dialed while she loosened the blue bowtie around her neck. Within the first two rings a woman answered.

“Abby, it’s me. Are you at work?”

Meanwhile, in her own apartment, Anya had received a single message from Lexa that had her flying down the stairs and into the parking garage. The message had only three numbers but Anya knew exactly what they meant.

911.

 

“She’s not even paying attention, are you Clarkey” Raven smirked at her friend who was holding a glass of untouched white wine while she looked around everywhere. If she was at all trying to be subtle she was failing.

“Right, yeah” Clarke replied, distractedly, still looking over Raven’s shoulder. Octavia laughed and her eyes lit up with amusement. She nudged Raven’s shoulder.

“I just got a call that the apartment is on fire.”

This earned a drawn out “mhmmm” from the blonde who raised the glass to her lips, only to put it down again when she saw a flash of brunette hair pass

Raven gave a half-wave at someone, “Oh look, there’s Lexa!” 

That, of course earned a wide-eyed look and an immediate “what?!” from Clarke, who blushed when her two friends started laughing. They had taken to this teasing since the day she came home dazed and confused talking about Lexa at the hospital. Both roommates had seen her looking at the note from Lexa more than once.

“I should have known,” Octavia looked pleased as she continued, “Clarke Griffin are you sleeping with Lexa Woods?”

“No!” though the blushing had intensified, “we haven’t even- it’s none of your business, O” she finished with a huff.

“Look at that blush,” Raven commented on the tomato-like state of her face, “you’re smitten already!”

Octavia seemed to take pity and put a comforting hand on Clarke’s arm, at the same time two hands reached around her face to cover her eyes. Even though she knew who it was she still gave a hard elbow back, landing a sharp blow to her brother’s ribcage. Bellamy dropped his hands while Raven chuckled. It was an old routine, one that rarely ended well for the older Blake since Octavia had started rigorous self-defense and martial arts training for her hopeful secret service career. He rubbed his now-forming bruise and stepped around to join the small circle.

“There’s my favorite sister” he said sarcastically, earning an eye-roll.

“I’m your only sister.”

“Yet some days you’re still not my favorite” though he was smiling at her and anyone who knew the Blake siblings could see plainly that Bellamy was Octavia’s biggest supporter, greatest fan, and loved her more than anything. Raising her alone since their mother’s death had turned him into the best big brother anyone could ask for- even if it meant he was a protective one.

“Hi Bell,” Clarke greeted, with a kiss to his cheek and a warm smile. “You’re bidding?” she asked, noticing the numbered paddle tucked underneath his right arm.  
Raven raised her eyebrows, “who’s the lucky girl tonight?”

“Echo from radiology,” Octavia answered before Bellamy could even open his mouth, “he’s been crushing on her since the summer picnic when he spilled lemonade all over her” she and Clarke laughed at the memory while he groaned. Raven looked at him with sympathy as Octavia continued to chuckle.

“All over her white shirt” Clarke added, “I think she thought it was on purpose.”

“Well I’m going to rectify that very soon, I already have out date planned and at the end of the night she’s going to be a different kind of-“

Octavia had stopped laughing and scowled at her brother, “please stop right there.”

Clarke tilted her head, “I thought I told you she’s not signed up for the auction. What’s your plan here, Casanova?”

“I’m bidding on Dr. Fisa” he said proudly. This earned three confused looks from the women around him, and Raven was the first to vocalize her confusion.

“Uh, is making her jealous really the best way to get a date?”

But Clarke interjected, “Dr. Fisa is a seventy-five-year-old trustee member.”

“Children. So young, so naïve,” Bellamy shook his head and pointed the paddle at the three dubious expressions, “I’m going to bid on Dr. Fisa, and Echo is going to see that I came here to support the hospital by taking a little old lady out on a date, and then the real date will be a piece of cake” he looked at them brightly, while Raven shook her head at his never-ending antics, then turned back to Clarke who continued to scan the immediate vicinity for familiar green eyes.

“She’ll be here, stop looking around like you’re a prairie dog.”

Bellamy looked curious now, “who are you looking for? Do I need to give someone the talk?” he stood a little straighter and puffed out his chest. Octavia poked his stomach at the same time, and he let out a small squeak, disrupting his attempt at a tougher image.

“No, but speaking of,” Clarke looked at him with a hard face, “you need to leave Wells alone, he’s just a friend.”

“He doesn’t think so.”

She wanted to scream at the deja-vu, and the first real sip from her drink was more of a gulp. Octavia tsked at her brother but let him in the loop regardless, “She’s waiting for Lexa Woods, her new girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” but the blush was back now and Raven looked like she was holding laughter in. “Stop it you two, Lexa just happened to mention that she’d be here and the bidding starts soon so…” she trailed off, attempting nonchalance.

Bellamy meanwhile mumbled into his drink, “better tell Jaha you’re off the market, he’s probably asking daddy for the credit card” which earned him a smack from Raven and Octavia each.

“Can you cut it out? Honestly are we still in high-school? Wells knows that we’re just friends.”

Clarke had grown up with the Blake’s which led to a sibling-like bond, but sibling-like fights came with it. Raven interjected, obviously trying to steer the conversation away from a fight, “he couldn’t outbid Woods if he tried,” she nudged the blonde to her left, “you know she inherited like, billions from her parents when they died? If you daddy her up you could be living the high life, maybe taking some of us plebeians along with you."

Octavia scoffed, “First, Raven, stop acting like you don't make truckloads of money. Second- like her parent's money even matters, her publishing house is easily the biggest and best on the East Coast, and she spends every waking minute there. Lincoln says she’s a machine when it comes to work.”  
Bellamy smiled, the almost-fight already forgotten, “Hmmm, who else do we know who works all the time and never has time for any of her friends.”

“At me next time, Blake” Clarke handed her drink off to a passing waiter and smoothed the non-existent wrinkles on her black cocktail dress. “I have to go backstage soon” she looked unsure, “I guess I’ll just go?”

Octavia sensed her nervousness and spoke confidently for the other girl’s sake, “she’ll be here, don’t worry.”

“Yeah and if she doesn’t show, then don’t worry. You look hot Griff, you’ll have takers left and right! You're like a sexy cut of meat at a butcher shop.” Raven patted her back encouragingly though Octavia looked at the other brunette incredulously. With a final nod and a tight smile, Clarke turned and made her way through the crowd.

“Can you hold this?” Bellamy asked, “I’m going to go get a drink.” Octavia took the bidding paddle and stepped closer to Raven while her brother disappeared to find the open bar. Raven held her hand out and twirled the paddle with a dangerous look on her face.

“So you just raise this to bid, eh?”

Octavia shrugged, “yeah but it’s Bellamy’s number, if you want to bid you have to go get your own.” Raven grabbed the younger woman’s arm as she spoke and pulled her closer to the stage where they could hear the auctioneer calling.

“I think Bellamy’s will be just fine.”

Octavia let herself be dragged but spoke again, “you won't be the one on the date, Rae.”

Raven looked over and fanned herself with the paddle, “no, I won’t be.” 

Now only ten feet from the announcer’s podium, they both looked up as he raised his arm to welcome the next doctor. “Up next, one of the hospital’s newest additions- Doctor Wells Jaha!” 

 

 

Clarke sat patiently backstage, chatting with two nurses from oncology, mentally debating on asking if they spent any time in peds, and if they ever saw a certain brunette there. The debate had been ongoing ever since she had spied on Lexa in the hospital. Friday, in a moment of weakness, she had gone back to the wing to look at Charlotte’s medical chart. As Clarke suspected, she was a long-term patient, but with absolutely no family. She had come from a group home on the outskirts of the city, yet curiously the note in her file very clearly said to spare no expense on her treatment, all costs would be paid for by an anonymous third party. Doctor Griffin of course, had a very strong suspicion who that third party was, and she itched to ask her mom more about the mysterious billionaire philanthropist.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Wells tapped her shoulder. Clarke vaguely remembered from the posted order of events that he was one or two doctors before her.

“How did it go?” and she patted the seat next to her.

“Fine I think.” He sat and let out a deep breath, “it’s hard to see with all the lights on stage, but I could have sworn I saw Raven bidding on me, I think she got the final bid, actually.” 

Clarke was surprised, only because she knew the mechanic hadn’t registered to bid. Raven and Wells didn’t have a long history, since Clarke had only known the girl since college, but since meeting Wells through the Griffin family, the two had gotten along fairly well. Better obviously, than Bellamy, whose history with Wells was one giant conflict.

“I don’t think she registered a number, but maybe it was someone next to her.”

Wells only shrugged, “I’m probably wrong, like I said, it’s hard to see with the lights. I guess I’ll find out at the end of the night. I better get out there though, you’re up soon right?”

Clarke hid her cringe and schooled her expression to be casual in her response. “I think next, but really, you don’t need to rush. You’ve done enough with volunteering, you don’t need to bid.”

Wells stood and held out his hand, “ah, but see I want to bid. Really Clarke, would a date be so bad?”

Clarke stood too, but ignored his offered hand. She tried to maintain her air of friendly indifference, “Wells, you know I don’t see you like that. You’re my oldest friend-“

“and just a friend, yeah. I know” he looked dejected but neither said anything further. Before the awkward silence could continue, applause sounded from behind the curtain and Clarke found herself ushered towards the steps up.

 

 

Lexa sprinted through the double doors with Gustus at her side. As her eyes raked over the foyer she saw what she was looking for and jogged over with her companion in tow.

“Can I get a paddle, please?” she reached into her jacket, and pulled out a wallet.

“I’m sorry, registration ended thirty minutes ago and we’re no longer-“

Lexa cut her off with a polite smile and a raised finger, but before she spoke they both heard the amplified voice from inside the hall.

“Now we have Doctor Clarke Griffin, George Washington’s younger Griffin and one of the stars in our ER. Doctor Griffin has been with us for several years now and completed her residency in trauma surgery. If you didn’t already know, you’re about to see that she’s not just brains, so let’s welcome her on-stage and start the bidding for a date with the beautiful, and might-I-add charming Doctor Griffin!”

Lexa quickly turned back to the girl at the table and looked down, writing as she spoke. “I’m writing a check, here, and it’s made out to the hospital, and it’s going to be for ten-thousand dollars. And then I’m going to give you my credit-card in exchange for a paddle with a number because I just heard the name Clarke Griffin and I’m going to be the winning bidder.” By the time she had finished speaking, the check and her credit card were in the hand of the now wide-eyed volunteer.

“Your number is 165, thank you for coming and-“ but Lexa was already through the door with her arm raised.

“going twice, and- looks like we have another bidder, folks. That’s six-hundred and fifty, do I have seven-hundred? That’s six-hundred and fifty going- And we have seven-hundred from the gentlemen here on the left. Do I have- And there’s the paddle again in the back, for seven-fifty, that’s seven-fifty going once, going twice, and here’s another paddle for eight-hundred, that’s eight-hundred going once-“

Lexa looked at her watch and thought about the deal she made with Abby- five minutes inside and Clarke doesn’t find out why she was late. She spoke up before the auctioneer finished the current price. “Eighteen-hundred!” and if she wasn’t attracting some looks already, she had every eye in the room now.

“I’m sorry, was that, eighteen-hundred?” the voice on stage asked, as the blonde doctor next to him tried to shade her eyes enough to see into the crowd.

“Unless I need to go higher” Lexa replied, which earned a few laughs from those around her.

“Well, that’s eighteen hundred going once, going twice, and that’s eighteen-hundred sold to paddle one-six-five. Let’s hear some applause ladies and gentlemen,” he looked over and spoke away from the microphone, “Doctor Griffin you are one lucky woman.”

Lexa breathed a sigh of relief as the applause followed Clarke offstage. By the time she got back to the registration table, the same girl had finished taking down her credit card and contact information. Before she could even say thank-you, an out-of-breath voice called her name. Mentally she calculated a sixty-second gap of time before Abby stormed in to collect her and drag her back to the hospital.

“I didn’t see you earlier and I thought you might not have come,” Clarke was smiling wider than Lexa had ever seen and she could have melted then and there with how beautiful it was. “I couldn’t see with the lights so I didn’t know it was you until I heard your voice” the doctor looked down for a moment, embarrassed but still smiling.

“I apologize, Clarke. I was running late tonight and I just made it in time.”

“No need to apologize, but you’d better be on-time for our date” and then, in what Lexa would decide was the best and worst moment of her life, Clarke winked. She winked and Lexa swore she was dead and gone to heaven with the way this angel looked standing in front of her.

“I hope you know that you look-“

A resounding alarm sounded, which both women realized was actually Lexa’s phone.

“I’m sorry, ignore it.”

Clarke gestured back towards the door, “can I get you a drink?” and Lexa was wrong because this was the actual worst moment of her life, because absolutely no part of her wanted to say no.

“I actually- I wasn’t planning on staying for long, I’m not- I wasn’t feeling well earlier” she finished lamely. Gustus leaned on her leg in support.

“Then how about,” Clarke stepped forward and lowered her voice, “coffee somewhere other than here? As a personal thank-you from the hospital for your generous donation.”

And when she was about to say screw it all, and leave through the side door with Clarke, Abby-be-damned, her phone rang again.

“I-“ she looked down at her pocket but didn’t dare pull it out in case Clarke saw her mother’s name. “Clarke, I’m so sorry. I have to go. But I promise, I’ll call you tomorrow and then on your next day off I’m going to pick you up for our date, on time, I promise.”

Clarke was still smiling but it didn’t reach her eyes, and she seemed to realize how close she was standing. “Of course” Lexa’s heart broke silently as the other woman took a step back, “I’ll see you.”

“Clarke,” Lexa ignored the phone ringing, walking backwards while she maintained eye-contact, “you look breathtaking tonight.”

Gustus turned with her and they both jogged outside, Clarke alone next to the registration table, arm half raised.

 

 

“Ready?” Abby asked, as Lexa let out a long sigh upon entering the car.

“Yeah” and she looked at the older woman, “thanks for this Abby. I know it’s not exactly the norm.”

“Well, if anyone at the hospital asks, I don’t condone this. You really should have stayed for observation. You know I don’t like you being out of the hospital after even a small seizure. I know you want your condition to stay on the down-low but this is your safety we’re talking about.” They made a turn out of the lot as it started to rain, Gustus draped his head over the center console while Lexa scratched the top of his head absentmindedly. Abby took the opportunity to prod, “did you talk to her?”

“I didn’t tell her, if that’s what you mean.”

“It’s your business, Alexandria.” Abby looked over, sizing her passenger up, “but you will have to tell her at some point if you want her in your life.”

Lexa leaned back in her seat and looked forward, letting the moment settle before she smiled sadly.

“I bought her sunflowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay- for some reason psychology classes won't accept fic in place of final papers. Update coming soon so let me know what you think so far! I've been absent on all social media lately but you can find me on tumblr as roundabout_way


	5. Theodor Geisel Part 1

The parking garage was quiet, dark, and gave Clarke too much empty space for her thoughts. Not for the first time she debated calling Lexa to cancel their date- which, _was it a date?_ she pondered. The other woman had texted her two days prior to inquire about her next free evening, and then had only given her a time to park in the garage beneath her building, and instructions to ring her penthouse upon arrival. Looking down at her phone she found herself rereading the conversation for (what felt like) the hundredth time that day.

She could feel herself overanalyzing every message from the mysterious brunette. For example, should she read into the fact that Lexa ended her “I’ll see you on Thursday” message with a period? Was there a reason she didn’t want to pick Clarke up? And why was Clarke parking under the building when they were just going to leave again- not that she knew that for certain. The other woman had been vague about plans for the evening. Clarke only hoped she wasn’t so presumptuous as to assume they would have dinner and drinks, just to fall into a nearby bed together simply because of the exorbitant auction price Lexa had paid. Although the doctor would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about what it would be like to do exactly that.

Her dreams as of late had been plagued with one Lexa Woods, and in Clarke’s opinion it was beginning to wear on her sanity. What did it say when sex dreams had more gentle touches, tentative smiles, and names drawn out with reverence than strict animalistic attraction?

Her head fell forward against the steering wheel and she groaned- it was time to face the possibility that she had a small crush, even though she had spent all morning denying the possibility to her roommates. It was entirely possible all her arguments had become moot after the fifth outfit change and subsequent hair curling.

She had decided on a simple but elegant blue dress, which had a higher neckline but an open back. After the first two dresses, Raven and Octavia each said they “had a feeling” Lexa was “more of an ass woman”. Not that Clarke paid them any mind, in fact their premonitions had absolutely no impact on her outfit of choice, and it was pure coincidence that dresses three, four, and five showed no low necklines but instead fit more snug below the waist. Dress five was the clear winner, Octavia and Raven had whooped and whistled at her as she entered the living room and by the time she left the apartment she was feeling confident. But now that she was actually here she could feel nerves begin to overpower her rational thought.

The long winter coat she had on was getting too warm with the heat on so she took another deep breath before turning the car off. She murmured to herself as she slipped on the heels that had been tossed under her seat, “stay cool, Clarke. It’s just a date. It’s a charity date. A date for charity. We’re going to go on a date and she paid over a thousand dollars. For a date. For charity.” Before she could think about that too much she shook her head, “stay cool, Clarke.”

She stepped down, took a deep breath, and walked towards the elevator.

 

Lexa, of course, was on some sort of manic overdrive. She walked between her bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen on repeat, trying to find anything out of place, or in some cases- she found something in place only to move it repeatedly. Gustus followed her with what looked like concern on his whiskered face, though more for his owner’s sanity than nerves about the date.

“Gustus it’s going to be fine. We’re fine. We have a date with Clarke Griffin and she’s coming over and we’re going to be fine. It’s fine Gustus.” 

When the shepherd only offered a tilt of the head and small huff she sighed, but when the door buzzer sounded she whirled to look at him.

“Calm down Gus!” though this only furthered his head tilt.

She jogged and slid on her socks to bump into the wall and simultaneously press the button to respond.

“Clarke? I mean, hello?” her voice sounded too high and she hoped Clarke couldn’t hear her nerves through the intercom.

“Hi, uh, it is Clarke.”

Lexa smiled in spite of her nerves, “right- come on up, I’ll see you in a minute.” She realized at the same moment her hand lifted off the call button that she had no idea where to be standing when the elevator doors opened.

“Should I stand here? I could stand against the couch, here. Or lean casual like-“ but as the elevator ding sounded, her right foot slipped out from under her, just in time for her to topple backwards and over the couch when the doors began to open. Some service dog she thought to herself as Gustus simply watched her land on the floor with a huff.

“Lexa?” she could hear from the other side of the sofa.

“Clarke!” she practically shouted and then winced as she stood up, “I was just, um, Gus got a ball stuck under here I was just...” and as her rambling trailed off she saw a nervous smile on the blonde doctor’s face and suddenly she wasn’t nervous at all. She hopped over the couch, purposefully this time, and gave the other woman a wide smile, hoping to put her at ease. “I’m glad you’re here.”

And she really was. It took her days to contact Clarke after the auction, fearing that her strange behavior had ruined any progress the two of them had made. Finally, in a sudden moment of bravery, she asked Octavia for her roommate’s number and now here the blonde stood, shifting her weight and looking somehow even better than Lexa remembered.

“I wasn’t really sure how to dress since I didn’t know what we were doing” Clarke began, as Lexa gestured to take her coat. Once it had slipped over the blonde’s shoulder’s Lexa felt her jaw drop with it. Upon her lack of response, Clarke had turned. “Lexa?” she asked, though this time not with a nervous smile, but a smirk that said she knew exactly what the brunette had been admiring.

“Oh, right. I guess I should have thought of that” she rubbed the back of her neck and looked a little sheepish. She was wearing tight black jeans with a loose white t-shirt and a thin flannel tied around her waist. While Clarke had given her an admiring once over, she suddenly felt severely underdressed. “You look beautiful.”

The blush that Lexa had grown to greatly enjoy made its first appearance of the evening with her compliment. She admired it for a moment before walking over to the closet to hang up the coat she still held.

“I parked my car in the garage like you said. Are we taking your car?”

Lexa let out a small chuckle, “that would be more of a walk than a drive, I’m afraid,” then turned to explain, “I don’t have a car. We’re actually staying here.”

Before she could look at the blue eyes in front of her and see the possible disappointment or disinterest in them, she grabbed the doctor’s hand and lightly pulled her towards the kitchen and then stood back as Clarke took in the scene presented before her.

 

“Wow” was all Clarke could hear herself say when she saw Lexa’s kitchen for the first time. Not because of the beautiful view, the brand new appliances, or the beautiful granite island that dominated the space, but because of the enormous pile of ingredients and supplies that covered every inch of counter space. “Did you buy an entire aisle?” she asked incredulously, finally turning to look at the woman behind her.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what we would want, and I’m not really a baker so I figured it couldn’t hurt to be safe and just get a little bit of everything I saw…” she let the end of the sentence hang as she surveyed the room herself, “I might have gone a little overboard,” though she only shrugged at the thought.

“So we’re baking” Clarke stated, though to Lexa’s relief she didn’t look displeased at the agenda.

Momentarily distracted by the way blonde hair had caught the evening sun from outside, Lexa had to pull herself back to the task at hand. “Uh, yes. I thought that since you worked in the hospital and all, we could make cupcakes for some of the children’s wings? Or we could just make them and you can have them. Or, if it’s a terrible idea, I can change and we can go out, anywhere you-”

“Lexa, Lexa, stop.” Clarke reached out and gave her forearm a light squeeze, “I think it’s an amazing idea. I’m embarrassed to be overdressed” she gestured down.

The brunette smiled and took a small step closer, she looked down at the dress and bit her lip before looking into the bright blue eyes in front of her, “I don’t think you’re overdressed, I think this is actually perfect for baking.”

Lexa’s voice had dropped lower and Clarke hoped her neck wasn’t flushing in response. Lexa smiled and reached for something on the counter before holding up two aprons with the tags still on.

“I did get these though, if you wanted to make sure not to get anything on your dress.”

“You bought aprons?”

“Like I said, I don’t do a lot of baking. Actually, I don’t do a lot of cooking either. I know how to make breakfast, but I’m usually at the office for lunch, and dinner I guess.”

Clarke found herself curious once more about Lexa’s story. She was obviously a hard worker, driven, and good at what she did. But her only reputation was that of an inherited billionaire player. Why hadn’t anyone ever seen this side of her? The woman who wanted to make cupcakes, and read books to children in hospitals. She looked closer at Lexa, who was cutting the tags off both aprons, and it was impossible in that moment to deny that the other woman was out-of-this-world attractive. Her jawline was one that Clarke would have killed for back when she took her human figures class at UCLA, and she bit her lip thinking about drawing the rest of the body in front of her. Lexa broke her daydream when walked she back over and tilted her head.

“I always liked cooking with my dad,” Clarke started, smiling at the thought of all the messes she had made in her childhood home, “he used to say it was a different kind of rocket science” which made her laugh, but put a serious crease on Lexa’s forehead. Clarke took both aprons and with her free hand reached up to smooth it out with her thumb. “Don’t worry,” her voice was soft and gentle, “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Lexa’s smile was the kind that almost knocked Clarke off her feet and she stumbled back slightly to hold up both aprons, before keeping the blue and tossing Lexa the green. “To match your eyes,” she offered, before turning towards the island. “So, what first?”

When there was no answer she turned to see what she could only explain as a true deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, and then she realized why Lexa had bought an entire aisle of baking supplies.

“Have you ever made cupcakes?”

Lexa knew she couldn’t get out of this one so she put on what she hoped was an innocent face. 

“I’ve eaten plenty?”

“But you wanted to make them.” Clarke slipped off her high heels while the other woman shrugged.

“Well, kids like cupcakes” she explained, as if to say _of course I wanted to do something I’ve never done before and don’t know the first thing about because there are children in a hospital who like cupcakes and they should have them._

“Who doesn’t” was all Clarke replied, and then moved around to get a better look at the ingredients at play. “First we need flour.”

Lexa jumped at that, “I do know where that is,” and proceeded to open up a cabinet above the oven just slightly out of reach.

And Clarke should have seen it coming, should have known better than to try and help when she saw the mostly-full bag start to tilt when Lexa used the tips of her fingers to inch it forward, but before she could stop herself, she was reaching up and shouting just a millisecond too late.

In the three seconds that followed, both women were sufficiently covered in the white powder that permeated the air around them in a small cloud.

Lexa looked horrified, “Clarke, I’m so sorry- your dress. I didn’t realize it was-“ but the blonde was laughing and stepping back to admire their handy work. She continued laughing as she reached out to brush Lexa’s cheek.

“You’ve just got a little flour…”

Then the two of them were laughing together, looking at each other only to laugh harder at the white sight in front of them. When they finally settled down, Lexa turned more serious, though she had a wide smile on her still-white face.

“We don’t have to make cupcakes.”

Clarke looked around the kitchen and then back at Lexa, a playful glint in her eye. “If we don’t get at least one successful batch then I’ll have worn this baking dress for nothing,” she walked to the other side of the island and pointed at Lexa, “why don’t you measure the flour, and I’ll stand over here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Summer break isn't much of a break with work, internships, volunteering, and of course a reading list that's far too ambitious.  
> 


	6. Theodor Geisel Part 2

Flour covered the floor of the kitchen and Gustus quickly learned that a sniff of the white substance didn't end well. He stepped over the heaviest concentration near his water bowl and whined when he saw that it, like his tail and two of his paws, had not escaped the powder. He carefully walked around, avoiding as much of the white as possible to lay on the carpet by the fireplace, near enough to smell the food sitting nearby, and with his ears angled towards the sounds of his owner who was probably kicking up more of the tasteless white sneeze dust. 

With the dust came the footprints. Scattered throughout the penthouse they mapped every step on the dark hardwood. They crossed back and forth between the pantry and refrigerator, they circled the island many times over, they meandered over to the wall of windows, and even made their way through French double doors into the home office, just to stop in front of a large impressive home stereo system, which had the tell-tale signs of white fingerprints on several dials and displays.

The footprints then led down the hallway, all the way to the bedroom, where they faded into the light carpet, and ended with Clarke Griffin. A Clarke Griffin still lightly dusted with flour. A Clarke Griffin standing over the bed, pulling her dress up and over her head.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the past hour” she said, and pulled on the leggings and t-shirt Lexa had laid on the bed for her. Tossing her dress in a plastic bag and leaving it by the front door, she made her way to the couch where another set of white footsteps led to an equally flour-dusted woman, now pouring two glasses of white wine. Clarke plopped onto the couch with a smile, “you know I really didn’t think you’d get me out of my dress tonight.”

“I didn’t either” Lexa admitted. Joining her on the couch, also dressed down in some athletic shorts and v-neck that showed off her defined collar bones.

Clarke didn’t try to keep the flirt out of her voice when she looked up from her glass of wine, “does that mean you weren’t going to try?” she asked.

Lexa was shaking her head before Clarke could even finish “no, no, no I was definitely going to try. I mean, I am trying” she face-palmed when the blonde beside her laughed, “I just think you’re probably a three-date kind of woman” she smiled. Even though both women had been nervous coming into the evening, hours covered in flour and stumbling through several failed batches of cupcakes had buried any awkwardness, and Lexa felt herself encouraged that Clarke had stayed, had laughed with her through her lack of competence in the kitchen, and had said yes when she asked if dinner was still a possibility.

“Well I guess I should tell you now,” at this Clarke leaned in, placing her hand on Lexa’s leg, just above her knee “that I’m actually” leaning in closer and lowering her voice, she continued slowly with her lips inches from the shell of Lexa’s ear, “a five-date kind of woman.” She swiftly kissed the other woman’s cheek at this, and turned to the bag of delivery food sitting on the coffee table, but kept her hand where it was.

Lexa couldn’t help but smile, because even though that was four dates more than she had been on with a woman in years, just the fact that Clarke hinted she might get that many was making her insides flip backwards on repeat. All evening she had felt like she was watching herself through some kind of out-of-body experience, because the past few hours with Clarke had been, quite honestly, unreal. It had been so long since she had written anything longer than an email, but in Clarke’s eyes she could see an ocean of words, and none of them right to tell her story. In Clarke’s voice she heard stories, novels, epic poems. In every movement the blonde made, Lexa wanted to write her story, wanted to write Clarke’s every thought and reflect upon it and flesh it out in pages and pages. It was like all of a sudden Lexa remembered how to breathe again, because that’s how she once saw writing, like it was necessary for her survival. And now instead of terrifying her, Lexa found herself taking every new breath in stride, found herself soaking it in, revelling in whatever Clarke was doing to her, finding awe in the woman sitting in front of her.

Whatever Clarke had expected tonight, it hadn’t been this. She had thought there would be awkwardness and pressure, because of the price tag she felt tattooed on her forehead from the auction. Instead, she found an awkwardness based only in Lexa’s obvious inexperience in baking, which only made her more endearing to Clarke. Instead of pressure there was laughter, and ease, and when Lexa asked tentatively if a change of clothes and dinner (ordered, not home-cooked, she assured) was an option, Clarke found herself agreeing without second thought. She expected to be distracted by the jawline and forearms that had stared in her dreams lately. Instead she found herself distracted by the sound of Lexa’s huff when she tried to blow hair out of her face, and the absentminded humming that accompanied the music playing. Somehow every expectation seemed silly now, the evening had been nothing like she thought, and it had been better than she could have imagined, her first bite of the truffle mushroom pasta in front of her confirming that the night was only getting better with time.

Lexa raised a glass to herself, “that’s definitely a fifth date kind of sound. Sounds like my take-out ordering vastly surpasses my cupcake making ability.”

Clarke clinked her glass against Lexa’s and winked, but kept any comments about what else she’d like to taste to herself. If she was going to keep this five-date sham (what was she thinking?!) up, she needed to pace herself.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that we hadn’t met before?” Clarke asked, as they started to eat the delicious food that had been delivered by someone shocked to see two adults who looked like human powdered doughnuts.

“Not really,” Lexa shrugged in between bites of the ravioli in front of her, she tried to reach over for a bite of the pasta but stopped when Clarke looked murderous. Holding up her arms in innocence she topped off their wine.

“But you know my mom, and you know Lincoln, and you’ve met Octavia before.” Clarke’s eyes narrowed as Lexa visibly choked mid bite at mention of her mother, confirming her suspicion that she was keeping her activity at the hospital a secret for some reason. _But that didn’t make sense,_ Clarke thought, _what’s the big secret about reading to kids?_

“Well I only see Lincoln at the gym really, since I’m usually working otherwise,” Lexa steered her response away from any mention of the elder Dr. Griffin, “and he’s kept Anya and I away from Octavia, really, probably worried that we’ll scare her off.”

At that Clarke laughed, having a hard time imagining anyone scaring off Octavia. She tilted her head, letting Lexa get out of talking about the hospital but continuing, “yes I’ve heard you’re quite the workaholic, in fact I’m pretty sure Lincoln lost twenty bucks to your sister for betting that it would take us at least two weeks to find an evening for this date.”

“Then he’s a sucker to think I’d ever choose to be at work if I could be with you.”

Even if it was a line, Clarke blushed and mentally reminded herself that sexy smirks and smooth lines did not five dates make.

“And are you implying that you’re at all unhappy with our first meeting? That you wish we had met earlier and with a proper introduction?” Lexa feigned disbelief, “and here I was thinking it went so well.”

“I’ll have you know, Ms. Woods, that you are sitting here in spite of that first meeting, not because of it” and with one hand on her hip she pointed with her fork, but Lexa took this opportunity to finally steal a bite of Clarke’s dish and let out a long hum of appreciation. The young doctor shook her head and then thought back to their first meeting less than two weeks prior. “You know, you really were quite rude. What if I had been a starving artist?”

“If you had been a _good_ starving artist I would have taken you out to dinner and then bought your art for my office” she paused “maybe then we would have done unforgivable things on my desk after-“

Clarke cut her off with a shove that made Gustus sit up and look back and forth between them suspiciously.

“Gustus lie down, she’s just upset that we’re not following that course of action this evening” which earned an eye-roll from the blonde and a stone faced look from the German Shepherd.

“Okay okay, if you _were_ an artist, and I liked your work, I would have taken you out to dinner, and bought your paintings.”

“And then you think I would have slept with you?”

“I would have done it five times if that’s what it took” Lexa said smartly.

Clarke found herself laughing, but in the back of her mind she knew that if she was still an artist, Lexa would have been the muse of all muses. As it was she was having a hard time not letting her mind wander to the kind of painting she could do with her mouth, all over the brunette’s body.

Taking a sip of wine, Clarke put her fork down and leaned back into the couch angling her body towards the woman next to her, “can I ask you something?”

“I don’t know, can you?” Lexa answered with one eyebrow raised, before moving to mirror Clarke on the couch, offering up the last bite of ravioli.

“Har har, clever” but Clarke leaned forward to take the bite and continued, “why publishing? I mean, why did you start a publishing company? Couldn’t you have just bought one that was already up and running?”

Lexa took her time to answer, and when she did, it was after a deep breath. “I wanted to be in the world of writing, the one I once wanted to be a part of, without being _in_ it.” Seeing the look of confusion she took a sip of wine and continued. “The only thing I ever wanted to do was write. Ever since I could read, I wanted to write. I fell in love with reading and all I ever saw myself doing was creating something that made people feel the way they do when they’re holding a good book.”

“So creating a publishing company meant you could write and publish yourself?” Clarke guessed.

Lexa shook her head “no, I never published anything of my own. I suppose you could say I just lost my passion for writing, but not for reading, and not for the feeling I got in finding other people who could do what I couldn’t. I didn't want a company that was making a lot of money from books it already had, I wanted to be in control of what I put out, and I wanted to make sure it was always the kind of content that gave people something. And, well, I suppose I wanted to create something if I was going to use the money, I wanted to use it to build something myself” she finished without looking in Clarke’s eyes, and felt her heart threaten to beat out of her chest, not with speed, but with a slow thunderous beat that she could hear in her ears.

“You’re stronger than I am.” 

Clarke’s low voice washed over the pounding in Lexa’s ears and her eyes snapped back to the blue orbs next to her.

“Whatever it was that made you stop writing. At least you stayed in the world you loved. You kept doing at least part of what you loved, even if it was hard” there was a moment of hesitation, like Clarke wondered if she should keep going. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything with art after my dad- well after it happened.”

Lexa wanted to be closer than just the one arm against the back of the couch that was lightly brushing Clarke’s shoulder, but with the way they sat she couldn’t do much more than move the food onto the table and place her other hand on the crossed legs in front of her.

“When I was growing up he was the first person to tell me I could be an artist, and he was the first one to buy a painting of mine, even if it was just a watercolour I brought home from school one day in fourth grade.”

Lexa chuckled at that, and Clarke reached out and began to play with her hand while she continued.

“He was the reason mom let me double major. And after Columbia I was going to stay in New York and _try,_ try and really make it. As an artist.” She laughed a little but the sound was coloured with sadness. “And then, well you know what happened. One decimal off somewhere and the whole facility- anyways I couldn’t stand DC, I couldn’t go anywhere in the whole city without remembering him and how we would go everywhere together to talk about how to draw it, and paint it, and see it in new colour.”

Lexa never saw herself as artist, not with colour at least, but she thought she might understand what Clarke meant, about the whole world lacking something when you lose someone who helped you see it differently.

“So I left. I went to UCLA and in the beginning I tried to keep something, I tried to hold on to at least something that used to be everything to me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find the right colour for the ocean and then I just decided I couldn’t see colours that way anymore.”  
She had not stopped absentmindedly stroking the palm of Lexa’s hand, and she startled when the hand that had been still gripped her own, and then their eyes met.

“Her name was Costia. And she was part of my story, and when hers ended I stopped writing mine down. I stopped writing all together. It was like all of a sudden I couldn't think of anything to put on paper, no matter how hard I tried. That part of it never got better.” 

Lexa waited for the feeling in her chest, the feeling where her insides were collapsing upon themselves that always came when she thought about Costia. But it never came, instead she felt like she was lighter somehow, maybe because this was the first time in years she had brought up Costia not because someone asked, but because she wanted to share this part of her story with someone. The hand holding her own tightened, and when Clarke smiled at her, the only thing she felt was warmth, a warmth that spread from her hand, and touched every single nerve in her body. When she looked at Clarke she saw understanding, and admiration, and something she didn't have words for, but she thought looked something like the way the beginning of a good book made her feel. 

Before she even realized what she was doing, her hand was cupping Clarke’s face and she was close enough to see every eyelash around the eyes that she decided were a better colour than the Pacific Ocean even at sunset. 

“Is this oka-” but Clarke’s answer was to press forward and in her kiss Lexa realized that whatever colours Clarke thought she could no longer see, Lexa was seeing for the first time. 

Clarke didn’t know what to do with her hands. She didn’t know what to do with any part of her body but she did know that she wanted more of her to be touching more of Lexa. All she could feel was the hot mouth on hers and it was making her whole body ache with desire. She felt like she was fading in and out of consciousness, and like her body was moving on its own accord. Her hands were in Lexa’s hair- no, they were on her shoulders, feeling muscles tense and, no- they were on her jaw, her hips. All the while Lexa’s mouth was moving against her own, she could taste white wine, and while it was making her dizzy, the taste of Lexa was making her drunk. The hand that initially held Clarke’s face was now on the back of her neck, and the gentle pressure was directing her into the kiss again, and again and again, while another hand was gripped at her side. Lexa kissed like she was trying to ruin first kisses for Clarke, and she was doing a good job. When they pulled away for air, the air was charged between them, and Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s, before leaning into to kiss the corner of her mouth once, twice, and then a third time, while they continued to breath heavily. 

“Wow” Lexa said, and smiled into the next kiss that Clarke pulled her in to. This brought on more kisses broken up with smiling, and lip biting, which only built into kissing that had both of them scrambling to find more contact. Clarke soon found herself vertical on the couch, Lexa’s lips leaving a trail of fire down her throat, and she squirmed when gentle lips moved back up to kiss the space behind her ear. 

“Lexa” she managed to breathe out, “Lexa we should- we should stop." 

Clarke’s resolve was tested when she looked up to find an impossible sight, Lexa with pupils blown wide. She turned her head but that did not help, she was met with one of Lexa’s toned arms holding herself up. Clarke looked up again, but did not risk another look at forest green temptations. Instead she risked a glance at the pulse point of the woman’s throat, which she leaned up to kiss without thinking. The moan above her reminded her why she spoke moments before. 

“I need to go. I’m never going to get five dates out of you if we keep _this_ up.” 

“For your information, I am more than capable of making it to five dates,” Lexa looked offended but Clarke only laughed as they got up off the couch which was now lightly dusted with flour, like everything else in the apartment. 

“Yes well seeing as I don’t have five paintings to barter with I think I’ll keep you coming back for something.” 

They made no move towards the entry, but instead moved closer and Lexa ran her hands up Clarke's arms while she spoke, "that's not fair, where's my insurance that you'll come back for something that I have to offer?"

"I have your baking to come back for" then instead of leaning in to give the woman another long kiss like Lexa expected, Clarke only moved around to give Gustus a scratch behind the ears, and started walking towards the front door, which she was swiftly pushed up against for one last kiss that tested her self control even more than the couch. 

That night as Lexa lay in her bed, alone, she thought back over the evening and started to replay every moment in vivid detail. Even though she had been thinking of little else but Clarke ever since their first meeting, after spending a full evening with her, Lexa didn't know how she was ever going to be able to _not_ think about her. With a shock, she realized that for the first time in years, her hand almost itched to start writing everything down. Hours later she fell asleep wondering if there were even words to describe the colour of Clarke’s smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never? I've taken a few years off... which means a lot of things have changed but maybe I can pick this up and do an o k a y job?
> 
> Truth is I could use a Beta so if anyone is looking shoot me a message.
> 
> Thanks for reading Xx


End file.
